


Lost and Found

by overlycompensatedapprentice



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Abuse in general, Also PSA Dont mess with P.T. Barnum's son, Angst with a Happy Ending, Big Brother W.D. is something i live for, Blood and Injury, Charity is ready to throw hands, Child Abuse, Circus fam, F/M, Found Family, Gen, I despise them, I don't think i can stress how worried barnum is, Kidnapping, Light Swearing, Major Hurt/Comfort, Protective Anne Wheeler, Protective P.T. Barnum, Worried Anne, Worried Charity, Worried Everyone basically, Worried P.T., are the actual worst, if you wanna live, like there arent words for it, mentions of child abuse, phillip's parents - Freeform, poor baby gets tied to a chair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-14 20:50:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13598127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/overlycompensatedapprentice/pseuds/overlycompensatedapprentice
Summary: Phillip's parents take drastic measures to save their reputation and get Phillip back to high society. The Circus is prepared to do whatever it takes to protect their family





	Lost and Found

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel (ish) to See The Other Side and A Simple Conversation- basically, Phillip's parents go from terrible parents to actual monsters- I got this from a suggestion on tumblr and I cried while writing it 
> 
> Enjoyy

Phillip Carlyle watched the audience during the finale. The crowds were cheering, radiant joy on every face. The applause grew louder as the performers took their bows, and didn’t even lessen when Phillip dipped Anne back and kissed her on the lips. The Barnums were there, too, sitting in the front row. P.T. had come to get some work done: he hadn’t stepped out completely, and was glad to step in and give Phillip a hand around the circus. Wherever P.T. was, his wife and daughters usually weren’t far behind, so there they all were, and they smiled widest of all. 

W.D. Wheeler was also watching the crowds. He saw the same things Phillip did, the applause, the smiles, the beaming faces of performers and audience members alike, he saw the Barnums. But he was higher up, on the trapeze while Anne was below with Phillip, so he saw something that the ringmaster did not. 

There were two faces in the crowd that did not hold joy, laughter, and love, and they certainly weren’t clapping. W.D. recognized the faces as those of Phillip’s parents. He made a mental note of it, reminding himself to ask Phillip if he and his parents had made amends. He doubted it, but he wanted to give Phillip and the rest a heads up anyway. They didn’t need another confrontation like there had been a few months prior. 

After the show, Phillip received his usual rounds of hugs, high fives and congratulations, and perhaps a kiss or two from Anne. He was going to search for the Barnums when suddenly a wave of dizziness hit him, it was momentary, probably a side effect of the fact that he hadn’t drank anything all that afternoon. Maybe…

“W.D.” The trapeze artist was the closest one to him, and Phillip figured he would tell Anne. “Can you let Anne know that I’m just stepping outside to get some fresh air for a moment, I don’t want her to worry. I won’t be long.” 

W.D. assured him that he would, he could tell Phillip that his parents had been there later. Didn’t need to spoil the fun. So Phillip made his way outside the tent, to take in a few breaths of fresh air, and maybe look at the stars before he went back inside. Then he had dinner plans with Anne and the Barnums. Things were certainly going well. 

“Phillip.” 

He turned around at the sound of his name, not really sure who would be calling him. He knew that no one from the circus would be outside, they would be busy enjoying the aftermath of a good show. Had he not been so happy and distracted himself, he might have been suspicious.

The light from inside caught the faces of his parents. Stern, and frowning, almost glaring at him. His heart sank. “Finally come to see the show, did you?” he asked, trying to sound casual. “Enjoy it?” 

“Come home, son,” said his father. “ You can marry a nice girl, come back with us, forget this freak show. This is your last chance.” 

“I think I’ve told you enough times, father, that I want no part of the selfish, miserable world in which you live, and no amount of bothering me about it is going to change my mind.” 

“Phillip, please,” his mother said. “Don’t be a fool. Come home.” 

“How many times do I have to say no before you figure out that I don’t want to go anywhere, especially not with you?” 

If Phillip didn’t know better, he thought his mother might look sorry for him. “Then there really is no other way,” she said. “We’re doing this for you.” 

There was a moment of confusion where he tried to understand what she was talking about, and then Phillip felt someone come up behind him, and before he could react, a hand clamped over his mouth, his arms pinned to his sides. He tried to cry out, scream for help, to Anne, P.T., anyone, but it was muffled. He tried to struggle, to break free, but to no avail. The last thing he saw was his parents, frowning, his father muttering something to his mother. Then the world went black. 

Back at the circus, P.T. Barnum was having a wonderful time, greeting performers, laughing and chatting with old friends. Anne was starting to worry, until W.D. mentioned that Phillip was just getting some air. That helped her relax a bit, but there was still an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. 

“Anne,” P.T. said behind her. “That was a wonderful job you did out there, tonight. That new trick? Amazing. Made my heart stop.” 

Anne blushed lightly at the compliment. Praise from P.T was something that she valued above praise from anyone else, because he was the one who had given her the opportunity to go on a stage as grand as the circus in the first place. “Thank you,” she said. “It means the world to hear you say that.” 

“Now, where’s the man of the hour?” P.T. asked. “I want to congratulate him, and I’m getting hungry.”

“Me too,” Anne agreed. 

“Us too,” chimed in the Barnum girls, wrapping themselves around Anne’s legs, and she tousled their hair, a habit she’d picked up from Phillip. “Mommy made cake for dessert.” 

“Where is Phillip, anyway?” Charity asked. “He’s usually right here.” 

“He said that he was gonna get some fresh air,” W.D. said. “He probably headed to the dressing room after that.”

“I’ll check there,” said Caroline, before any of them could respond. She had been looking forward to spending some time with Phillip, and didn’t want him to take forever. 

“You can’t, sweetheart,” Phineas replied with a laugh. “That’s the men’s dressing room. I’ll go get him.” 

Caroline giggled too, realizing her mistake. “Okay, daddy,” she said. “Can Helen and I go see if he’s outside? Maybe he forgot that we were waiting for him.”

“Yeah, I bet he forgot,” Helen giggled. 

“I’ll go with you,” Charity rolled her eyes with a smile. A bit of motherly concern was starting to creep in, but she pushed it aside. Phillip had a habit of getting lost in his own head, especially when looking at the stars. He would probably be out there watching them twirl through the night sky with a dreamy smile on his face. 

“I’ll check his office,” Anne was growing very worried now, though she pushed the thought aside. There were about fifty very logical explanations to where Phillip could be, especially since getting carried away with work was a rather bad habit of his. He was probably just fine. 

“We’ll see who finds him first!” P.T. said with a laugh, though he locked eyes with Charity. Both wore an expression of slight worry and doubt. It was easy to make a game of it, but they both knew that Phillip would normally have been back by now. 

The party split up, leaving W.D. alone by the dressing room door. He pondered for a few moments what was taking their ringmaster so long. Was it possible that he had seen his parents and was a bit upset? He was pretty sure that after the last confrontation, his parents wouldn’t say anything. Lettie came up behind him. “Where’s Phillip?” 

“I don’t know,” W.D. replied. “He should have been back now. He said he was going out for some fresh air. Look, I’m probably worried over nothing, but I saw his parents in the audience while I was in the air.”

A shadow passed over Lettie’s face as Barnum returned. “He’s not in the dressing room.”

“He’s not in his office either,” Anne was white now. “He’d better be outside.” 

Just then, Charity and the girls returned. Charity was giggling at something Helen had said, but when she saw that Phillip wasn’t with the others, and that they were expecting him with her, it faded. Helen and Caroline said something about him probably being in the ring, and she followed, still watching P.T, eyes gazing anxiously around for Phillip. 

“If he isn’t in any of those places then where is he?” W.D. asked the now- silent room. Nobody had an answer.“His parents were here tonight,” he added. “Do you think that they might have said something that upset him?” 

He didn’t totally understand why P.T. and Anne both went completely white. He knew that Phillip’s parents weren’t the friendliest but he didn’t know what could be so very bad about it. 

“Said something,” Phineas growled quietly. “Yeah, right, I know Phillip’s parents. They’re more do-something people.” 

“You think they did something to him? Is that something they would do?” A small part of all of them still hoped that Phillip would stroll out of some obscure spot with a grin on his face. Of course, they all knew better than that. Phillip had also proven fifty times over that he would never go back to his parents and his old life. Not without a fight. 

“I know the Carlyles well enough,” Phineas said grimly. “That’s exactly something they would do.” 

He turned in conference with Anne. Besides P.T. and Charity, she was the only one who truly knew the extent of what Phillip had suffered. The rest only heard bits and pieces of the conversation, but Lettie’s expression darkened, and Anne seemed to grow more and more panicked with every word they heard. “Tried to...Phillip...at the show...outside…did it…must have...” 

“Do you know what they’re saying?” W.D. whispered to her. 

“I have a few guesses,” Lettie replied. She knew a thing or two about the Carlyles as well. “None of them good, and I don’t know for sure. But if I’m right, Phillip isn’t here. And he needs help fast.” 

The answer clicked in W.D.’s head. Guilt bubbled up within him. He should have warned Phillip the second that they got offstage that his parents were at the show. He hadn’t, and now Phillip was gone. 

“We need to start looking for him then,” said W.D, protective big brother instincts kicking in. “Would his parents have taken him right back to their house? Or is there anywhere else that they could go?”

“Their house.” P.T. and Anne seemed to be wrapping up their conversation, P.T. looked almost as frantic as Anne now.. “It has to be. There’s no other explanation. It’s too awfully perfect to be a coincidence and we can’t risk Phillip, even if we’re only acting on a hunch.” 

“It’s not a coincidence or a hunch,” Anne retorted. “They took him. I know it.” 

The Barnum girls had re-entered the tent, they had checked the ring. No Phillip. P.T. grabbed Charity and pulled her aside. 

“Phillip’s parents were here tonight. I think that they might have taken Phillip. It’s the only explanation…”

As her husband talked, Charity’s expression turned from one of motherly concern to one of pure rage. She knew what Phillip’s parents were willing and capable of. “We need to go. Right now.” She tried to keep the tears back. She didn’t want to scare Caroline and Helen. “God, if they hurt him I swear that I will…” She trailed off. She couldn’t think of anything painful enough.

“I know, I know, god Charity I know.” Phineas said. “But you need to stay with the girls. Keep them out of all this. I’ll go, and I’ll bring him back.” 

Charity knew he was right, but it didn’t stop the hot tears from spilling down her cheeks. She couldn’t even bear the thought of what might be happening to Phillip, and right outside the tent, too. 

“Mommy, what’s wrong?” asked Caroline, tugging at her mother’s hand. “Why are you crying?”

“Where’s Phillip?” asked Helen. All she wanted to know was if her big brother was alright. The tension rising in the group did not go unnoticed by either of the girls, and they understood. Phillip was in trouble. 

“It’s nothing, girls,” Charity tried to reassure, quickly wiping her eyes and managing a tired smile for them. “There’s no need to worry.” 

The girls knew that she was lying, but they also knew that daddy couldn’t be worried about them. He needed to focus on whatever had happened to Phillip. The girls locked eyes, worried expressions meeting. They needed to talk about this later, but they couldn’t worry mommy and daddy. This was too important. 

“Charity,” Phineas tried to gently put an arm around his wife but she pushed him away. “Phin, go, hurry,” She murmured to him with a shaky voice that she tried to hide, wiping away more tears. “I’m fine. I’m not the one who needs you right now. Our boy needs you. Bring him home safe.” 

As Charity ushered Caroline and Helen out, Anne broke down. She had tried to stay strong in the presence of the girls but this was all too much. The thought of what Phillip might have been suffering in the hands of his parents right about then made her heart break. There wasn’t much that the Carlyles weren’t willing to do. 

“Barnum… Phillip” She said between shaky breaths. “I can’t...I can’t lose him. Not again.” Memories of the fire, of P.T. carrying Phillip’s limp body, that time at the hospital flashed before her eyes for a moment and she prayed that he was alright, because she didn’t know what she would do otherwise. 

“Anne, Anne,” Phineas said gently, trying to hold back his own tears. It was old news by this point that he and Charity considered Phillip to be a surrogate son, and at this point, P.T. was as worried as Anne. “We’re not gonna lose anybody. I will get him back.” 

“I think you mean we will get him back,” Lettie stood face to face with Barnum. “If you think you’re going alone, Barnum, you’re wrong. Phillip is our family too.” 

“I don’t want anyone getting hurt,” Phineas protested. He knew that Phillip’s parents were capable of quite a lot. What had happened to Phillip was living proof of that. 

“Exactly,” W.D. spoke up, he was standing besides Anne, one arm around her. “If you go up against the Carlyles alone, someone might get hurt. Against all of us they don’t stand a damned chance. We’re going. And we’re wasting time that could be spent getting Phillip back. Now, let’s go.”

... 

Phillip woke up when the carriage jolted to a halt. His mouth was still clamped shut, and it took a few moments for him to get his bearings. Then he saw where he was out the window, and a spike of fear went through his heart as his suspicion was confirmed. He was back at his parents house. 

The carriage door opened, and whoever it was that held onto Phillip dragged him roughly up the steps. Phillip didn’t fight. What was the point? This person was obviously bigger and stronger than he was. He would wait until he got into the house. That was when he could plan his escape. He’d mapped out routes when he was younger, afraid that his parents’ wrath might some day get so bad that he would need to run. He silently thanked his eleven year old self. 

The door shut behind them and Phillip was released, the hand over his mouth removed. He stood up straight and marched right up to his parents, who were waiting there in the kitchen. A nod from his father dismissed whoever they had hired to do this. The door swung open, then shut again as the person left. 

“This is a new level to stoop to,” he said, taking in a shaky breath. “Even for you. What do you think you’re going to accomplish through this?”

“We’re just trying to help you,” Phillip’s mother replied. “You should be thanking us.” 

“For what, exactly? Kidnapping me?” Phillip resisted the urge to roll his eyes halfway back in his head. The whole situation might’ve been funny if it wasn’t terrifying. His parents seriously expected him to thank them for knocking him out, dragging him halfway across New York, and ruining his evening. 

“We are trying to make you remember what you gave up when you joined Barnum. We made a mistake last time, trying to get to you around your freak show friends. This time, you’re free of outside influence,” his father replied smoothly. 

“Wow, you covered all your bases,” Phillip said sarcastically. He was still scared, but he knew that now that whoever had taken him was gone, he could leave. His parents wouldn’t be able to stop him, would they? He glanced around the kitchen, but he still felt no more at home here than he had as a child. His heart flew with warm feelings of fires at the circus after shows, playing cards, laying looking at the stars with Anne. That was home.

It was time to go back. This time, he might even get to have the last laugh, turn this mess into something to triumphantly talk about over dinner. Phillip turned back to face his parents. “So, I’ve looked around at what I’ve quote-unquote ‘lost’ and came to the same conclusion I have every single other time we’ve had this conversation. Whatever little I lost with you, like, you know, the inheritance, the abuse and the alcoholism. I gained so much more: friends, family who truly cares about me, love, and work that I adore more than anything. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got dinner plans.” 

Phillip turned and was strolling right towards the door, his parents too in shock to stop him. He was feeling really good about himself when the first blow hit him on the side of his neck. He stumbled, his head bent at an uncomfortable angle for a few seconds while Phillip recovered from the shock. 

The strike was hard, and full of anger. One of his father’s belts. Phillip knew the feeling well. He whirled to face his parents once again, anger mixed with childish fear that he had never quite been able to rid himself of. “I don’t know what the hell you thought was going to happen, if I would get in here and magically want to stay, or what, but you can’t keep me here forever. Let’s just go our separate ways.” 

Phillip’s father seemed to be mad with rage, he lashed out at Phillip and the blow connected once again, Phillip wasn’t fast enough to dodge it. “We don’t need to keep you here forever, boy,” he snarled at Phillip. “Once your little circus friends think you abandoned them they won’t ever accept your excuses when you try crawling back to them. You will have nowhere else to go. And you will not speak to us in that manner.” 

Phillip tried to run, but it was too late. He should have started running the moment his kidnapper had been dismissed, but he’d gotten arrogant, thinking that he could have the last laugh in the situation and leave a stinging blow on his parents for once. Now, there was no chance. His father seized his arm and held on, and the blows rained down on Phillip. He kept fighting, praying that his father would slip up, and he could get away, but he could feel himself growing weaker, more tired. He was dragged back into the kitchen, the relief from the beating almost a pleasure. 

“I wish we did not have to resort to this, Phillip.” His mother stood, watching the confrontation with complete calm. “We’re doing this for you.” It was chilling, how much she truly believed that what they were doing to him was the right thing to do. 

Phillip was roughly pushed into one of the chairs that his mother had evidently taken from the dining room. He could barely feel anything, he was almost all numb with pain, but he did feel his father pull his hands behind him, the rope winding around him, restraining him, keeping him here in his old house, his old life. 

That’s when Phillip truly began to panic. He was more scared than he had ever been in his life. He knew his parents were awful, cruel and selfish, but he never thought that they would go this far. He shook as he tried to take deep breaths, but the belt still struck him every few seconds, his father’s cruelty and heartlessness leaving its mark. 

His father seemed to have gone mad with rage, and his mother did nothing to intervene. She did not harm Phillip, but she certainly didn’t help him. She watched, indifferently, as her son was beaten in front of her. Her husband had usually handled the punishments, so why should this time be any different. 

Phillip fought for a few seconds, but the knots were too strong. He was too weak from pain and the cuts and bruises that now decorated his body. He slumped over, the rope binding him the only thing holding him up now, and the only coherent thought he could put together was that his showman’s jacket was badly torn.

...

The whole of New York seemed to get out of their way that evening, even the few protesters who usually amassed after the show, trying to give the performers a hard time moved out of the way when they saw the look in P.T. Barnum’s eyes. Tonight was not the night to provoke the circus king. 

They moved quickly and confidently, eager to get to Phillip as soon as they could without any distractions in the middle. Their one focus had to be getting to the Carlyle estate as soon as they could. Unfortunately, Charity and the girls had taken the carriage, so they had to walk, but they half walked, half ran through the New York streets, taking back routes and alleys, however they could make their journey shorter.

Phineas walked right up to the front door of the house, knocking sharply on the fine wood a few times. “Open up!” he shouted. No answer. He tried again. Once again, no answer. He called out for Phillip, hoping that the young man might hear him and respond, but to no avail. 

He turned back to the circus to see if they had suggestions, when they heard a sharp crack, and then a whimper of pain cutting through the silent night. It was coming from inside the house. Anne cried out. 

Phineas looked up to where the sound was coming from. His vision was tinged with the color red. If P.T. Barnum was ever going to commit murder, it would be tonight. With a cry of anger and frustration, he kicked at the lock. The door rattled on its hinges, but stayed shut. 

“I can’t wait any longer,” said Anne, her voice shaking with both anger and sorrow. “I’m going up there to get him.”

“You’re not going by yourself,” W.D insisted. He cared too much about both Phillip and Anne to let his sister do something so dangerous alone. “We’ll both go up there. And I reckon if you kick that door a few more times it’ll break open.”

“W.D,” Anne said sharply. “The window. Up there.” 

Everyone turned and saw where she was looking. One of the second-story windows was open, and a tree that loomed in the front yard provided access, if one knew what they were doing. Anne and W.D. Wheeler certainly knew what they were doing. 

“Go,” P.T. insisted. “We’ll meet you inside, also, don’t kill anyone till I get there.” 

Anne was already halfway up the tree before he finished his sentence, W.D. right behind her. Anne went first, balancing on the narrow limb and leaping for the open window. She grabbed the ledge and hoisted herself inside. W.D. was also successful and they poked their heads out and gave Phineas a nod, letting him know that they were alright before they disappeared. 

Following W.D’s advice Phineas kicked the door a few more times, each harder than the last. He ignored the throbbing in his foot, and with one last, hard kick, he was able to make the door open. He turned back to the others. “Come on.” 

It took them a few moments to get their bearings inside the massive house. They raced from pretty, ornate room to pretty, ornate room, trying desperately to locate Phillip. 

They ran smack into W.D. and Anne, who were standing at the foot of a staircase, they were glaring at a closed door at the end of the hallway. 

“There,” Anne said. “He’s in there. We just found our way down here, thought we were never gonna find the place.” 

Phineas nodded. He thought about their options, and then he heard another snap. There would just have to be more door breaking. 

W.D. took the lead this time. He grabbed an expensive looking metal paperweight from a nearby table, and slammed it into the ornate golden lock on the door, hard. 

The door swung open and P.T. almost vomited. 

They stood in the Carlyle estate’s kitchen, in the very back of the house. The latest technology there in droves, the countertops made of solid white marble, chandelier hanging from the ceiling twenty feet above. 

A single fancy dining chair stood in the room, and the chair held a half conscious Phillip Carlyle, bound harshly against it, slumped over in the ropes. They seemed to be the only thing keeping him from collapsing. His jacket was half torn off, and he was covered in cuts and bruises, his face was bloody. He looked up and saw the circus standing there. The expression on his face turned from one of resignation, to one of fear, not for himself, but for his friends. “Anne...Phineas...Go.” He managed, before he slumped over, his eyes closing, blacked out from pain. 

Phillip’s parents stared at the sudden crowd in the room, as if they were actually surprised that someone showed up to save Phillip. Finally, it was Phineas who broke the heavy silence. He marched straight up to Mr. Carlyle and punched him in the face. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing here?” he demanded. 

“Disciplining our son as we see fit,” managed Phillip’s father, reeling backwards from the force of the sudden punch. 

“I can’t even listen to this,” Phineas snarled. He was seeing red. If there was ever a night that P.T. Barnum would kill someone, it would be this one. He drew back his fist and hit Phillip’s father again, harder this time, the rage that he felt over seeing his son like this spilling out. It was the very least he deserved, given what state Phillip was in. 

Phillip’s father fell this time, eyes shut. Phineas’s punch must have knocked him out. .

“Stop,” begged Phillip’s mother. “Please, stop, you’re hurting him.”

“Like he didn’t just hurt Phillip?” yelled Phineas. “It’s like you don’t even understand how hypocritical you are.”

Anne moved towards Phillip but his mother turned her attention away from Phineas to stop her. “You don’t touch my son, slave girl!” 

Anne usually would have looked down at the floor after an insult like that, ashamed, but she was so angry that she barely understood Phillip’s mother’s comment. “I don’t touch him, bitch?” She sneered. “Look at what you did to him. Now get the hell out of my way.” Anne raised her hand and slapped Phillip’s mother. “Before I kill you like the monster you are.” 

Phillip’s mother swept out of the room. P.T. started to go after her, but Lettie held out an arm and stopped him. Anne ran to Phillip. 

All the commotion made Phillip stir. He slowly opened his eyes, ignoring the throbbing and the way the world seemed a little off balance. “Anne?” he managed to gasp through the pain. “Why...still here?” 

“We weren’t just going to leave you here,” she said, tears springing to her eyes when she looked at him. She knelt down beside him and caressed his face gently, careful not to hurt him. “Shhh, don’t talk alright? Just close your eyes, and we’ll keep you safe.”

P.T. had been struggling with the knots binding Phillip, but he was so angry, so frustrated with the universe, that he wasn’t able to get very far. Anne was afraid he’d accidentally hurt Phillip worse in his anger. 

“Barnum,” She offered. “I’ve got it.” 

Phineas relented, and Anne knelt, expert nimble fingers gently untying the rope. Phillip collapsed off the chair and Phineas caught him, almost sobbing with relief. “Phillip, it’s alright, you’re safe now, son.” 

Phillip could only nod, slumped against P.T.’s shoulder. . 

“Let’s get him home,” P.T. said quietly. He gestured to the others to move along. “It’s more important to get him home now than anything else. We have medical supplies. No need to stay here any longer.”

They all filed out fairly quietly, Phillip’s mother too busy tending to his father to say much to them. A line had been crossed today, which he doubted anyone could ignore. They couldn’t accuse the circus of breaking and entering, not without giving away their own, arguably much worse crime of kidnapping. The Carlyles would not be harming the circus, or their son, ever again. 

There wasn’t anyone about on the fancy street on which the Carlyles lived, not at this time of night. Phineas carried Phillip with assistance from W.D, Anne beside them, watching Phillip anxiously every moment. Lettie also watched Phillip with concern, an arm around Anne. 

A few of the performers who had accompanied them went home, with promises from the others that they would let them know how Phillip was the next morning, but most stayed with P.T. and Phillip. 

Now that he was free and not being beaten within an inch of his life, Phillip seemed to improve slightly. He could form coherent sentences and was talking quietly to Anne.

W.D made sure that Phineas had a hold on Phillip, and then moved closer to one of the dancers and said, “Run ahead and warn Mrs. Barnum that we have Phillip, but he’s quite a sight and she should be ready to take care of him, and make sure the girls don’t see him and get frightened. I’m sure they’re already worried enough.”

The young woman nodded and scampered off. The circus wouldn’t be far behind her, but a little bit of a head start would be enough to ensure that there were no more unpleasant surprises that night. 

The door was already opened for them when they arrived, and Charity was waiting anxiously right beside it. “The girls are upstairs,” she said, as Phineas carried Phillip through the door. “I told them to stay there until I said it was alright to come see Phillip because he might be tired.”

Phineas nodded, and lay Phillip down on the sofa. Phillip winced as he did so, then relaxed. Anne knelt next to him, and took his hand. “You shouldn’t’ve come after me,” He murmured. “Someone could have gotten hurt.” 

“And what, left you to their mercy?” Lettie scoffed, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You’re family, Phillip. We weren’t just going to let them take you.”

Charity had re-entered the room with medicine and bandages in her arms. She truly took in Phillip’s state for the first time. “Oh my god, Phillip, what did they do to you?” 

“You don’t want to know.” Phillip managed a humorless, tired laugh. “Trust me.” 

Charity didn’t press Phillip further, but she looked at Phineas as if to say: We’ll talk later. 

Her husband nodded. He would gladly explain, but right now that wasn’t important. “What hurts the worst?” he asked Phillip. 

“Everything, pick a spot.” 

Charity decided to start with his face, that did not look pleasant in the slightest. Phillip had a black eye, several long gashes across his cheek, and a cut on his lip that Charity could only wonder how he’d gotten. 

While Charity tended to him, Phillip looked at the anxious faces of his friends, watching him with concern. “How’d you figure out what happened?” 

“A guess,” Anne replied, a bitter taste in her mouth. She didn’t even want to think about what might have happened if they had been wrong. “W.D. saw your parents in the audience, and after you disappeared, well, it seemed the only explanation.” 

“I should have told you,” W.D. said, a guilty expression on his face. All of this could have been avoided, had he just been a little more careful and told Phillip about what he had seen.

“Hey, there’s no reason to feel guilty,” Phillip reassured. “I didn’t even know my parents would do something this bad, and I’ve been dealing with them all my life. It isn’t your fault.” 

W.D. nodded, at least Phillip was safe now, that’s all that mattered. They spent the rest of the time with Charity caring for Phillip in silence, and by the end of it, Phillip felt much better. He still ached, but it was dull. The initial pain had subsided. 

“I’ll be alright,” he told her, when he realized that she was just washing the same cuts over and over because she was nervous. He weakly grasped her hand. “There’s no need to worry.”

Charity stopped, and insected the cuts one last time. She nodded, as if finally satisfied. “Do you need anything?” 

Phillip opened his mouth and was about to say that, no, he was fine, when Anne spoke up. 

“Sleep would be good,” Anne said, glaring Phillip into silence. “Phillip needs sleep.” 

She was probably right, so he simply nodded. Charity smiled at the way he listened to Anne. “Of course,” she said, leaning down and giving Phillip a kiss on the forehead. “Come on, Phin. Goodnight.” 

The rest of the circus wasn’t going home at this point. It was generally understood that the ones who had stayed with them weren’t going anywhere, so they were just going to camp out at the Barnums’. They wished Phillip goodnight, and all filed out, with W.D. going last, giving him one last look before following Lettie out. 

It was just Phillip and Anne in the room now, with Anne still grasping Phillip’s hand. She didn’t want to leave him. 

“You should get some rest too,” he said. “There’s no need to stay here, I’ll be fine. You look exhausted.”

Anne shook her head. “I’m not leaving you,” she said. The night’s events had shaken her up badly, not having expected something like that to happen. She was not leaving Phillip all alone, especially not after what happened. “I won’t be able to sleep if I leave.” 

Phillip moved over with a painful grunt, leaving enough room for Anne. “There, compromise.” 

Anne smiled, squeezing in beside him so that they were both lying down beside each other. Almost reflexively, she put a protective arm around him and pulled him close. “Charity isn’t going to let you out of her sight for the next year, you know.” 

“I know, and neither will you,” he teased. “But she doesn’t have to worry. I’m fine, or at least I will be. The girls weren’t down here, were they? I don’t want to scare them.”

“They weren’t, Charity told them you were tired. And you’re right, but it’s not going to be for a year, it’s going to be more like forever.” 

Phillip leaned over and kissed her on the lips. He didn’t have to lean far. It was the first chance they’d gotten since before he’d been taken, and Anne didn’t pull away for a long time

“I suppose I could live with that,” he said softly with a smile, once they finally broke apart. 

“You’d better, Carlyle.” 

Phillip’s breathing became heavy, and Anne realized that he had fallen asleep, finally succumbing to the exhaustion and injury. She pulled him a little closer and buried her face in his hair. He was with her and he was safe, that was all that mattered.

**Author's Note:**

> In case y'all don't know I have an account on Tumblr dot com where I post more fanfic and bad memes! The user is overlycompensatedapprentice because I'm not creative


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